Ricks's List
Rick Koster offers weekly lists of ideas, notions and things that must be seen to be believed
A lot of people have wise things to say about Time. Some are cloaked in grandeur, like Nathaniel Hawthorne’s “Time flies over us but leaves its shadows behind.” Personally, I find comfort in Jim Croce’s “If I could save time in a bottle / Then I wouldn’t have to mess around with Jim!”
Oddly, though, my favorite Time quote is something I came up with: “Time was invented so clocks and watches would have something to do.” (Look for it soon on a T-shirt near you.)
If there’s anything good in Time racing by and laughing at us, it’s that I’m now old enough to have had my first COVID vaccination shot. A few observations from my experience:
1 I studied, memorized, investigated, researched and digested all manners of data from a variety of official state, local and federal sites on how to register for a vaccination. I consulted astrologers and tried to bribe doctors. After two days, I had no idea what I was doing and was no closer to an appointment. Then my pal Steve Slosberg emailed to catch up and casually mentioned he’d just gotten his vaccination at Stamford Hospital. He sent a link. In about four seconds, I had an appointment. My diligence had paid off!
2 Before you incredulously harrumph, “You drove all the way to Stamford for a vaccination?!,” let me say that, upon arrival at Stamford Hospital, as I went through the checkpoints, three different hospital workers looked at my driver’s license, saw I’m from New London, and incredulously harrumphed, “You drove all the way to Stamford for a vaccination?!”
3 I guess the fact that the world is dying from a plague means driving 86 miles to NOT die is cause for astonishment.
4 Speaking of showing my driver’s license, and also speaking of dying, I got a new license a few weeks ago.
Incredibly, the photo came out even worse than the usual ghastly results. It’s like Diane Arbus is behind the Department of Motor Vehicles cameras. Proof: At the first vaccination check point, the hospital person looked at my license photo and screamed, “Code Blue! Code Blue! This guy’s already dead!”
5 I wasn’t, of course, and I carried on. The vaccination wing occupies two different floors and is laid out in that sort of clearly temporary fashion you’d associate with a high school gymnasium that’s set up for a science fair. It reminds you of how much effort is being put into this, and, above jokes aside, I was guided from one station to another by consistently gracious and kind folks. They all know what they’re doing and seem to be proud to be a part of this noble project.
6 I don’t know the name of the young Black woman who administered my shot. She had a lovely, lilting Caribbean accent and, when I walked in and thanked her in advance for her help, she held up the tiny vial of vaccine. “Imagine,” she said, excited even though she must have given hundreds of shots by now. “This has SIX doses in it. This small amount helps save six lives!”
7 Her comment reflected the feeling I had the whole time I was there. Amazing what a little positive energy and compassion can do. This is me harrumphing: Get vaccinated.